Rip Tide
by asearcher
Summary: Story written for Drown Malcolm month.  We know that Malcom has had aquaphobia since childhood. This story looks at that history a bit closer.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Thanks to Mareel for betaing.

**Rip Tide**

Uncle Archie was right on time. Not that being on time was a surprise. Uncle Archie was always on time. Punctuality was never a problem in the Reed clan.

"So you moppets ready for a great weekend?" the gangly redhead asked as he came in the door.

"Yes, Uncle Archie," ten year old Malcolm stated with absolute certainty. His Uncle always took them for the most wonderfully interesting trips each year when his Mum and Dad took their semiannual weekend trips away.

"Good. I'm sure we'll have a brilliant time. "

"We're not going climbing again, are we?" Madeline asked, her frown showing it wouldn't be appreciated if they were.

"Ben Nevis was a fine climb and very interesting, Maddy," Malcolm stated. He'd especially liked the remains of the observatory at the top.

"I hated it," his twelve year old sister complained. "It wasn't fun to climb at all and the ruins on top were boring." She said the last in drawn out fashion.

"And Madeline almost twisted her ankle coming down," their mother, Mary, pointed out. "You really need to be more careful, Archie. They are children, after all."

Archie nodded. "Well, we're not going climbing this weekend. We're going to go camping in Cornwall. Won't that be fun?"

"I wanted to go shopping in London!" Madeline cried out.

"You went shopping last month with Aunt Sherry," Malcolm reminded her with a roll of his eyes.

Archie put his hands up. "Now, you two, let's just plan on having a good time. After all, your Mum and Dad want to have a relaxing weekend, not one worrying about either of you."

"Your Uncle Archie's right. He doesn't have to do this you know," Archie's brother, Stuart, reminded.

"Yes, Uncle Archie," that two children answered in unison.

"All right then. Go on and pack up. You'll need play clothes, hiking boots, and your swimsuits. You can even take a few town clothes as I'm sure we'll go shopping as well. I'm going to visit with your parents while you pack so, go on, both of you."

The two children ran back to their rooms to get ready. They never knew what to pack before a trip. It was all part of the fun and their father had drummed it into them they needed to be flexible and prepared for anything.

A little less than an hour later, the group was ready to go. "What part of Cornwall are we going to?" Malcolm asked, excited yet composed about the outing.

"We're camping in Padstow."

"Padstow? There's nothing there," Madeline grumped.

"Nothing? Fishing, hiking, boating, maybe some body surfing. I think we'll have a grand time," Archie contradicted. "Besides, I've loaded the caravan with games and I have some of your favorite treats."

Malcolm nodded. "Sounds fantastic. It's always fun when we're with you." Madeline just sighed, sure that this weekend would be nothing of the sort.

Once they arrived at the camping spot, Archie and Malcolm worked to get the site set up while Madeline set up the kitchen area. That's the way it had always been and thus the two children didn't question their roles. Before long, everything was set.

After a dinner of sandwiches and crisps, Uncle Archie and the kids played Scrabble. It was always a favorite with the two Reed children. Throughout the evening the winning points would be scored by each of them in turn but by night's end, Madeline had taken the honor. As a result, she got to choose what they'd do the next day.

"Body surfing. I want to go body surfing," she stated directly.

Archie grinned. "Perfect We can go up to Constantine tomorrow then. Now you two, get to bed. We'll be up early." The two children followed his request after giving their Uncle a hug.

The next morning, all were up and ready for the pancakes that Uncle Archie always fixed on their first day out. The first time they'd seen the peanut butter he'd put on them, they weren't sure they'd enjoy the taste but their Uncle had insisted they at least try them. Maddy had enjoyed them so much, it was a given they'd have them on each trip. After breakfast, they got ready and left for Constantine.

The town was small although people would come from all around for the excellent surfing in the bay. For as long as anyone could remember, it was the place to go as the waves were consistently good. They were able to rent some wetsuits and body boards at a local surf shop and before long, the three were out in the water having the best of fun.

Malcolm watched the surfers riding their boards in the bigger waves and wondered what it would feel like. Thus when Uncle Archie was helping Madeline put her hair back up after a wave had drenched her, Malcolm paddled out a little further then his Uncle had allowed. Enjoying the bigger waves, he didn't see the surfer coming in fast and headed directly towards him until they crashed.

As he was thrown off the board, it became a projectile and hit him in the head. Dizziness and nausea immediately consumed his world. A few moments later he found himself under the water captured by a current that was pulling him out to the open sea and finding it impossible not to swallow the salty water.

He'd been taught to swim from an early age. After all, the Reed men were career Navy and he was expected to follow along that path. However, in the fear and confusion of the moment, he tried to swim against the tide, desperately trying to get back to his uncle and sister.

Breaking the surface, he sputtered for a moment taking in a gulpful of air before continuing to be pulled under and out to sea. His arms and legs had tired and he realized he wasn't going to make it. He wondered in that moment how his family would take his loss. While most of his family would feel proper remorse at his loss, he knew his father would be disappointed that his son had done such a stupid thing as ignoring his uncle's instructions.

Giving into the inevitable darkness, he didn't feel strong arms capture his limp body and pull him sideways out of the riptide. Taken to shore, the lifeguard who'd saved him performed CPR on Malcolm's lifeless body. When he came to, vomiting the foul sea water, the first sound he heard was his sister's crying. The first sight after the lifeguard was seeing his Uncle holding her and telling her there was still hope for her brother.

Once the lifeguard saw he was out of danger, he left Malcolm's side to allow his family to get closer, but suggesting that the boy be seen by a doctor for a possible concussion. Uncle Archie's and Madeline's faces came into view, both looking concerned. Malcolm's voice was raw as he offered, "I'm sorry, Uncle Archie. I shouldn't have gone out further than you said."

"No," the man responded, his voice shaking with emotion. "You shouldn't have. What possessed you, boy?"

"I just wanted to see what the bigger waves were like." He shivered. "I don't ever want to feel that way again. I…I… was drowning."

"You were caught in a rip tide."

"It was terrifying. I thought I was going to die under the water and no one would find me."

Archie's eyes grew distant. "Yes, terrifying." His secret musing ended as quickly as it started. "Well, you're safe now although we do need to get you to the hospital to check out that concussion."

After a quick trip where they learned that the concussion was mild and would likely heal quickly, the group went back to their campsite. After dinner and a game of dominos, they decided to take it easier the next day. Choosing to go shopping made Madeline happy and when they arrived back home the day after there were several new outfits for her closet. Malcolm, on the other hand had only purchased a book on Admiral Nelson.

As the days and then months passed, Malcolm assumed that he'd put the summer accident behind him. It wasn't until the next year, when Malcolm joined the Boy Scouts, that he found out otherwise. He'd made First Class quickly and had started to obtain his badges. He was ready to attempt his swimming badge when he learned the weekend in Cornwall would be with him longer than he thought. As he walked into the building that held the large indoor pool, he began to feel a niggling of fear which morphed to terror as he moved closer to the shimmering water. He told himself there was nothing to fear but found he had to leave the pool area altogether after only a few minutes.

Over the next week, he tried several times more, with the same result. It became clear to him that the innocent desire to play amongst the waves had brought his great-uncle's curse upon him. While most of the Reeds could honestly speak of their love of large bodies of water and say that seafaring was in their blood, he was facing the prospect of having to turn away from that legacy. Arriving home after his latest attempt, he went into the house and headed straight to his room, lying out on his bed, miserable.

About an hour later he heard a tap on the door. "Come in," he called out and wasn't surprised when his mother walked in.

"Aren't you feeling well, Malcolm?"

"I'm fine, Mum."

"Now Malcolm, you can't fool your mother. What's wrong?"

The boy's eyes darted away. "It's something I'm going to have to conquer."

"Conquer? You make it sound like you're going up against an army."

"Not a bad analogy," Malcolm responded considering the words.

Mary sighed. "Why is it so difficult to learn what's troubling you? You've been like this since you were small. I'm your mother. I want to help."

"Father will not be pleased…"

"About _what_, dear?" She sounded exasperated.

He held onto his words for a moment more as if not saying them would keep them from being true. Finally, though, after seeing the concern in his mother's eyes, he relented. "I was hoping that my swimming merit badge would be the next I received."

At his words, she at first looked relieved. "Is that all? You have so many in the works; I'm surprised you think you can stage them." Then she saw he was still troubled. "There's something more, isn't there." The words weren't posed as a question but instead were certain.

With anguish in his voice he seldom allowed to show, he nodded. "So much more, mother." He paused to get a better handle on his emotions. "You remember the stories of Great-Uncle Nigel?"

"Of course I have. He was the hero of the _Clement_. If it hadn't been for him, all hands would have been lost."

"But what of his affliction?" Malcolm asked as if she were a student in exams.

If she was to get to the bottom of her son's angst she knew she would need to go at his speed. Malcolm was nothing if not punctilious with his thoughts. "He had aquaphobia, the fear of drowning but he was able to put it aside."

"That's what I used to believe. Now I'm not so sure." He took a deep breath. "I've been trying to work on the badge this week. I couldn't even walk to a pool. I know that I can swim and all, but the only thing I could think about was the terror I felt when I was drowning in that riptide." Once more his emotions got the best of him, his hands clenching. "How am I going to follow Reed tradition if I can't even get close the bloody water?"

His mother sat next to him. "Maybe you'll outgrow it."

Malcolm blinked. "Maybe. I hope so." He didn't think it would happen but things could change. He looked over to his mother. "Until I know, can we not tell Father?"

Mary put her hand on his. "It'll be our secret, Malcolm."

Over the next few months, the secret was held close by mother and son. However, like all secrets, there came a time when it saw the light of day. That happened one day almost eight months after Malcolm's confession that he'd acquired the wrong Reed trait.

He had been asked by his father to join him on fishing expedition during one of his breaks from school with a few of his friends and their sons. Malcolm had been dreading the trip all week, trying to find ways out of it, claiming that he had a paper due when he returned to school, feigning an upset stomach, disobeying an order from his mother in hopes he'd be grounded to no avail. He listlessly got into the flitter car and didn't say a word during the short trip to the pier where they were meeting the others anglers.

When they arrived, the two Reed's retrieved their fishing gear from the boot and moved toward the group.

"Ah, Stuart. You and Malcolm are here now," the rather portly man who Malcolm knew as Thomas Logan, looked up at the sky. "Should be a pleasant day. Those clouds don't look like they're carrying much rain." His son, Marcus, and Malcolm had been on the same football team a few years before.

"Yes. Definitely a good day for fishing," Stuart had answered before turning to the third man. "Ian, glad you could make it."

"I'm always up for a day out on the water. Stephen has a new rod to try out."

Malcolm had stood back, barely listening to the conversation. Rather, he was looking at the broad expanse of dark water, light playing along the gentle waves created on the lake by the wind. As he watched the patterns form and melt, his stomach clenched as he considered the fact that within moments they'd be moving towards his nemesis.

"Isn't that so, Malcolm?" he barely heard his father ask.

"What?" Malcolm asked pulling his mind from its dark musing. He blinked. "I'm sorry, what did you ask, sir?"

"I was just saying that you've already earned twelve badges in the scouts. Got your first in outdoor activities."

"Yes sir. That's correct," he answered but not offering more.

"Well, I guess we should get going. After all, the sooner we're out there the sooner we'll have some stories to tell," Thom Logan suggested.

As the group moved closer to the boat and thus the water, Malcolm found himself pulling back more than moving forward. As he got closer, the palms of his hands started to sweat. Halfway down the pier, he stopped altogether.

His father turned. "Malcolm? What's wrong?"

"That stomach bug. I think I might be truly ill."

"Nonsense. Once you're out on the water, you'll be fine." Stuart started to move forward again expecting his son to follow. When he turned around a few moments later, he frowned. "Come on, Malcolm, you're holding everyone up."

Ian put a hand on Stuart's shoulder, "If he's sick…"

"No. We've been planning this trip for a month. He'll be fine."

Malcolm tried to take another step closer to the water but couldn't. Swallowing tightly his next words were strangled. "You go. I'll stay here, sir."

"Stay here? Nonsense," the man repeated. "Now come on Malcolm. We don't have time for this."

Feeling that if he took another step forward, he'd break down he shook his head. "No. You go. I'll wait here." When his father started to insist again Malcolm turned and walked away, knowing that punishment for turning his back on his father would be preferable to being forced into sailing on that lake. As he walked away, he heard silence for a moment and then his father's controlled voice telling the others that if Malcolm didn't wish to join them, it was his loss. For a moment he considered how his father was like the very riptide that had brought this about; seemingly calm on the surface but hiding a deadly current beneath. The thought caused a slight chill along his spine.

The sound of the group's steps as they continued down the pier rang in his ears until he couldn't hear them anymore. A few minutes later, the sound of the boat's motor reached him and he looked out to where it was moving out towards the center of the lake.

Over the next several hours, Malcolm walked around the small town, knowing that this was the calm before the storm. His father wouldn't understand. Even when the tales of various Reed's and their great naval service were pulled out and presented proudly during family dinners, the story of great-uncle Nigel was his father's least favorite. The thought of being afraid of drowning simply wasn't real to Stuart Reed. Malcolm knew he'd never understand that his son now possessed that weakness.

When the sun was moving towards the horizon, Malcolm made his way back to the car. The group all had caught their quota of fish and it was a sure bet that quite a few tables would be sporting platters of lake trout for dinner. Another short banter of small talk engaged the small group but it wasn't long before each family broke up to their separate conveyances to make their way home.

Stuart didn't say anything to his son for quite some time as they got into their car and started for home. The silence eventually was too much for Malcolm and he spoke, trying to explain. "I'm sorry, father. I…I…know you don't understand what happened but…" He tried to think of a way out of telling his secret but it was no use. "I have aquaphobia…like Great-Uncle Nigel had."

"Aquaphobia? There's no way I believe that. I've seen you in the water, Malcolm. You no more have aquaphobia than I have the gout." The words were spoken with derision.

"I haven't always had it. Only since that accident in Cornwall. When Maddy and I went camping with Uncle Archie."

"That was a onetime event, Malcolm. I sincerely doubt you'd contract aquaphobia from that but if you did, you need to find a way to suck it up…like Uncle Nigel did."

"I'm trying, father. You don't know how much I wish I could just tell myself this is rubbish. But I can't." He took a deep breath. "Looking at that lake today…hell, looking at any deep water…"

"Don't use that language with me," the older man warned.

"I apologize, sir."

Allowing the apology to reset the conversation, Stuart continued. "Now, Malcolm, we won't speak of this again, but the next time, I expect you to show some backbone and put this idea of yours in the dustbin where it belongs. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," the boy answered, vowing to himself that he'd do everything he could to banish his fear.

As Malcolm went through his teen years, he kept his vow. He was able to obtain his Swimming badge and Water Craft through sheer will. He taught himself to fish from the shore and could occasionally even take a short trip out on the water if the water was calm and the boat was large enough. He continued to push himself to regain his childhood love of the water until the day he gave up his dream of being an officer in the Royal Navy. That was the day he read about the growth of the first omni-Earth service, Starfleet. While the medium would be space and not water, the tradition being cultivated was definitely Naval based.

The night before he was to leave for the Starfleet Training Corps, he knocked and then walked into the sitting room where his mother was knitting and his father reading. Maddy had left home several years before and was now in Germany working as a marketing rep for a precision custom engineering firm. He would send her a letter once he reached his destination.

"I wanted to let you know, I'll be leaving tomorrow for San Francisco," he announced. He knew it would be a shock to both of them as he hadn't breathed word of his plans before.

"San Francisco? Whatever for?" his mother asked.

"I'm joining Starfleet."

"Starfleet? Why would you do a foolish thing like that?" his father questioned, putting the book in his lap.

Taking a deep breath, Malcolm explained, "I'll never be able to be an officer in the Royal Navy, sir. In Starfleet, I can still follow the Reed tradition."

"The Reeds have never served in space. The ocean is what flows through our veins."

"And I can't serve on the ocean," Malcolm reminded him.

"Because of your aquaphobia." The distain in his tone spoke volumes in how Stuart Reed felt about his son's weakness.

"Yes sir. I wish I could speak otherwise but this is the right path for me to take."

"Then we wish you well, Malcolm," his mother responded, putting her knitting to the side and getting up. She walked to her son and put a hand to his face. "Do write and let us know how you're doing."

"I shall, mother," he told her, his eyes softening.

"I can't say that I agree with your assessment, Malcolm." It was clear that his father would never accept any service but the Royal Navy for his son. "It is your life, however. If this…Starfleet…is what you want, then do well. Remember what the Reed name stands for."

"I will make you proud, I will make both of your proud," he answered them before heading back to his room to finish packing. Later, as he lay in his bed, he wondered where this path would lead. He knew that truly deep space travel was years away but this was a start. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift, allowing the sleep to pull him into dreams of this new yet comfortable journey.


End file.
